Unanswered Questions
by dog.spartacus
Summary: A very short explanation of two very short conversations concerning Olivia's relationship with Tucker. Concurrent with 18x4 and 18x5. Accusations of E/O.


Timeline: Season 18, just before 18x4, "Heightened Emotions"

A/N: Anyone else really interested in Olivia's conversations with Carisi and Fin about her relationship with Tucker? I started wondering what might have been going on between them (like why did she tell Carisi that "every relationship has secrets"?), and this is what my little EO-shipping mind came up with. If you're a fan of Tuckson, this might not be for you. For everyone else, enjoy this tiny one-shot. All reviews are welcome.

Disclaimer: these characters are _so_ not mine.

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"Unanswered Questions"

They're having dinner at her place one night, late because they'd both been delayed at work. Noah's already asleep, and it's quiet with just the two of them and no busy restaurant to distract them. The conversation slows, and she relaxes a little more with a healthy swallow of the red wine he brought.

"Tell me," he says suddenly. "Were you and Stabler ever... you know." There's a tiny glint in his eye, like maybe he's joking.

She tries to roll her eyes, laugh it off. "You should know, Ed. You investigated us enough."

He grins, and for one indulgent moment it seems like he might back off. But then: "Any cop knows 'no proof' doesn't always mean 'no crime.'"

" _Crime_?" she repeats, trying to sound as if she's only pretending to be offended.

"You know what I mean," he says with a dismissive shrug.

She puts her fork down and sighs, having lost her appetite.

"So?" he asks expectantly.

"I'm not doing this with you," she says breathily.

"Stop hedging, Olivia. There's only one reason to hedge, and we both know it."

Her eyes immediately cut to his place setting, hoping to be able to excuse his behavior by finding that he had drunk half a bottle of wine. But he doesn't even have a glass in front of him. Only she does. How did she miss that before? Was this his intention all along? "I didn't realize this was an interrogation," she retorts.

He shrugs again, maybe a little too smugly. "It's not IAB who's asking this time."

"Then it doesn't matter," she offers blithely.

"Bullshit," he snaps, "it matters more."

"Why, Ed? Why does it matter at all? The past is the past, and right now, in this moment, I'm sitting here with _you_ ," she tells him, opening her hands over their table. She smiles flatly, annoyed by his sudden attitude. One of the things that had drawn her to him in recent years was that he seemed to agree that the past was behind them. He had convinced her—outright _promised_ her, even!—that their past interactions with each other had no bearing on whatever this was that was developing.

He sits there, opposite her, squinting a little like he used to do whenever he was on the verge of changing his mind. She thinks he's about to let it go. "Did you sleep with him?" he asks instead.

The bluntness of the question and the fact that he still isn't giving up infuriate her. She feels almost sick to her stomach, considering how foolish she might have been to have actually trusted him. "I will not dignify that with an answer," she says coolly.

"That means yes," he says quickly, accusingly, tossing his napkin onto the table as he sits back in his chair.

"That means you're being an ass, and I won't acknowledge your ridiculous question enough to even deny it," she snarls. She glares at him, warning him to stop, but somewhere in her mind she already knows that this is the end. They won't bounce back from this. It has nothing to do with the answer to the question, it's the sheer fact that he asked at all. She doesn't trust easily, and now she feels like he's been lying to her about everything.

He looks tired, ready to concede. Maybe ready to apologize and tell her that he was wrong and it had been a rough day at work and he was feeling insecure and he just needed some reassurance that she—"Were you in love with him?" he asks quietly instead.

She feels like she has just been socked in the stomach: she can't read him. She can't read him at all. It is a terrifying revelation. Even more terrifying is that she instantly thinks of Elliot, whom she knew inside and out, whose entire body she could read as easily as her own name. It isn't the same with Ed. And maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with the answer after all. "I think you should go," she whispers.

He doesn't budge. "I just want to be sure of what I'm in," he says. "That's all."

She shakes her head sadly. "Well, you have nothing to worry about," she assures him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Just as he starts to smile back, Olivia continues: "Because you're not in it anymore."

His eyes go wide, and he looks paler than usual. She simply raises a hand toward the front door. He hesitates for a moment then finally stands up. He watches her as he crosses to the sofa and collects his coat from the back of it. "We should talk about this, Olivia," he advises, as if it might change her mind right then.

"Maybe. But not now. Not for a while." She hasn't lowered her arm.

He shuffles to the door, perhaps thinking that she'll come around when she sees that he's really about to leave. He turns back to look at her, a mixture of bewilderment and anger on his face. "I'll call you," he tells her, his hand on the doorknob.

Her face contorts with doubt. "I wouldn't," she says.

At her door, he expels a long breath, and then he leaves.

 _-fin-_


End file.
